


Wreck of the Day

by DestinyFreeReally



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-17 12:02:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9322688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DestinyFreeReally/pseuds/DestinyFreeReally
Summary: Wynonna feels responsible for (?????) whatever demonic Badness is happening to Waverly





	

     Ignoring the way her ipod's volume is too high and making her ears ring was easier when she could focus on how much her hands hurt instead. How much her shoulders hurt, how sore her back was. Wynonna kept punching the big, green bag like  _it_ was the thing that had cursed her, that had cursed them all, until a drop of sweat slid down her nose, and invited out tears from her eyes, floodgates be damned. Hands wrapped around her, hugging her back to his chest, as she made sounds she couldn't even hear over her still-blaring music. Eventually, she shrugged him off to breathe, and unplug her headphones, and  _shit_ her knuckles are bleeding again and  _goddamn_ does all of her feel sore as hell.   
  
     "Let me tape you up," Quietly, Dolls pulled her hands into his lap, checking her face for winces or sobs or signs of Wynonna-like life. He isn't always sure, when she needs space and when she needs someone, but he figures she's had weeks of being alone, weeks of quiet when he wasn't there, weeks of being back on her own and facing all the bad in the world at once. "It's not your fault, you know, what happened to Waverly."  
  
    Wynonna stared at their hands, his runnings white tape in gentle circles over her ugly-looking fingers.   
  
    "Bullshit," She muttered eventually, rolling her head side-to-side, working out the soreness in her neck. "You weren't there, you don't know." It's not an accusation, it's just a fact; a shitty, immutable fact.  
  
     "I  _know_ ," Dolls switched to the other side of her, running his hands in circles over her back, pushing and pulling muscle to her satisfied sighs. It isn't the drinking, or the midday disappearances to punish things that won't hit back, that worry him- the way her face gets turned off to him, the way she's been shutting down, that worried him. The far off look in her eyes that he didn't recognize, was becoming  _too_ recognizable, too familiar. Smoothing sweat-slicked hair off her forehead, he kissed the side of her temple; gently, like she was breakable, something fragile now. "Hit the showers, Earp. That's enough for today."


End file.
